Fake: A Fake Fiance Romance

by Rush, Olivia

  Finally, after I got back from a quick lunch with Bess, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out so quickly that I nearly launched it out of my hand and across my office.

  It was them.

  I pressed “accept” and held the phone to my ear. Moment of truth.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Chelsea Lane?”

  “It is.”

  It was Nurse Stafford. She quickly introduced herself and let me know where she was calling from.

  “I know you’re probably eager to hear the results, so I’ll get right to it.”

  A moment passed that seemed to stretch into forever.

  “The results are positive—you’re pregnant. Congratulations!”

  I slumped against the wall behind me, letting my body sink down until I was in a seated position.

  I couldn’t believe what I’d heard.

  I was pregnant.

  I was going to be a mother.

  “There’s no chance that the test is wrong, right?”

  “Not a chance. You’re one-hundred-percent pregnant.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I opened my mouth to speak but just kept opening and closing it like a fish out of water.

  Nurse Stafford must’ve picked up on the fact that I was speechless, because she kept talking without waiting for my response.

  “You’re about five weeks pregnant. The next step is going to be your first prenatal, which we normally do around week eight. Of course, you’re welcome to use your own doctor, but we have a great OBGYN on staff. If you’d like, I can get you penciled in for three weeks from today. There we’ll do the ultrasound and all that good stuff. How does that sound?”

  “G-good,” I said.

  “Perfect,” she said. “I’ll be emailing you some basic information on what to expect at this period in your pregnancy, and of course, if you have any questions or want to come in and see us, please don’t hesitate to get in touch.”

  “OK,” I said flatly.

  The rest of the conversation, what little of it there was, was a blur. I hung up and let the phone drop out of my hand and onto the floor.

  I had no idea what emotion I was supposed to be feeling. Part of me was overjoyed, another part of me was terrified, and a third knew that this bizarre arrangement with Bryce had now gotten somehow even more complicated.

  So, I did what I always did when I felt overwhelmed—I worked.

  I threw myself into planning the upcoming week, setting up appointments with representatives of various construction companies, doing what I could to make sure that the next phase of the development was going to be ready as soon as the site was clear.

  And before I knew it, the time to leave had come. Now it was time to see Bryce.

  I didn’t know how to handle telling him the news. The idea of keeping it to myself, if only for a little while, occurred to me. But I realized that this would be totally pointless—I’d be showing soon enough.

  I realized that I’d gotten so wrapped up in the news of my pregnancy that I hadn’t noticed that Bryce hadn’t been in touch with me. Normally he’d text me throughout the day, but my phone was clear.

  Something about this struck me as odd.

  Then, as if on cue, my phone buzzed in my hand—it was Bryce.

  A text that simply read, “Come to my office. It’s important.”

  My stomach tightened, some instinct telling me right away that something was wrong. I shot him back an affirmative text, grabbed my things, and headed toward his office.

  Once there, I nodded to the secretary as I opened the door.

  Right when I laid eyes on Bryce I knew that my suspicions were correct—something was very, very wrong.

  Bryce was seated at his office chair, as usual, but his posture was strikingly different. Instead of his proud, confident—maybe even slightly arrogant—way of carrying himself, his head was slumped down, his eyes locked onto some undeterminable point on his desk. There was no music or noise of any kind playing. He was silent and still and shocked.

  “Bryce,” I said, walking slowly toward the desk, my steps so careful you’d think I was worried about setting off a mine. “What’s wrong?”

  More silence and stillness from Bryce. I stood a few feet in front of his desk, not sure what to do.

  Finally, he spoke. “It’s my dad,” he said. “He’s gone.”

  Chapter 35

  Chelsea

  I didn’t know what to say. As soon as Bryce spoke, that same silence returned to the office.

  “He’s gone?” I asked. “What do you mean?”

  But I knew exactly what he meant. I simply didn’t know what else to say.

  I watched as Bryce swallowed, rolled back his shoulders, and sat more stiffly. He was doing his best to compose himself, but I could see that he was beyond pained.

  “Today,” he said. “Around noon. He was with my mom having lunch, and out of nowhere another stroke hit him, just like before. But unlike before, this wasn’t a minor one. He hit the floor, half his body numb. My mom called the ambulance, but by the time they managed to get him to the hospital he was gone. Just like that.”

  “Oh my god.”

  It was all I could say.

  Finally, I regained my presence of mind. I hurried over to Bryce’s side of the desk and threw my arms around him.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. “This is just unbelievable.”

  Hot tears formed in my eyes. The reality that this man who I’d just met, whose home I’d stayed in, was gone was almost too difficult to truly understand.

  And I couldn’t even begin to empathize with what Bryce was feeling.

  As I held him, I felt his body stiffen. Whatever he wanted, it wasn’t my touch. I let him go and stepped back.

  He cleared his throat and spoke.

  “I have to go back to Washington tonight,” he said, his eyes fixed on me.

  “OK,” I said. “I’ll get some things packed and come with you.”

  He shook his head. “No,” he said. “You don’t need to be there for any of this.”

  “But I want to,” I said, returning my hand to his.

  His eyes flicked down for a moment before he slipped his hand out from under mine. “No,” he said, his voice hard-edged.

  I was taken aback by his tone, and he seemed to realize this.

  “Thank you,” he said, realizing what he’d done. “But it’s just going to be a matter of me going to the hospital and making arrangements, not to mention being there for my mother. There’s nothing you need to be there for.”

  “But I want to be at your side,” I said. “The thought of you suffering on your own makes me sick.”

  “I appreciate that, I do. But I need some time to process this on my own—just for the day.”

  He stood up, taking a few steps away from me, his eyes fixed on the city.

  “I’ll be leaving in an hour. Please stay here and attend to whatever you need to, and I'll let you know about anything you need to be made aware of.”

  I felt as though there were million miles of distance between us. Everything about Bryce was cold, and at that moment it was more like I was a client he needed to be rid of than the woman he was dating.

  “That’s all,” he said.

  And it was. He had nothing else to say. I stammered out an “OK” as I left the office. Once I was back in the hallway leading to my own office, emotions began to swirl through me like a storm. I wanted to be there for him, but that wasn’t what he wanted.

  And his father. He’d been so kind to me, had kissed my cheek, and now he was gone. And Barbara? I couldn’t imagine how devastated she must be.

  Then there was the issue of the baby. I’d been so consumed by Bryce’s tragedy that the subject had been totally pushed out of my mind. Now that it was back, I knew that there was no way I could tell him now.

  It would have to wait. But I had to tell someone.

  Once I was back in my office, I knew I was going to be too distracted to
get any work done. I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and sent a text to Bess, letting her know that I needed to meet for lunch ASAP. She messaged me back immediately with a suggestion for a place.

  An hour later I was seated across from Bess at a two-person table in a nearby upscale Greek restaurant. I’d told her the news, and she sat across from me in stunned silence, her eyes wide with shock.

  “Oh my god!” she finally screamed out, bursting out of her seat and throwing her arms around me. “I can’t believe it.”

  I glanced around through the hug, noticing that the eyes of nearly everyone around us were locked onto me.

  “Congratu-freaking-lations!“!” she said, squeezing me tighter.

  “OK, OK!” I said, laughing. “You squeeze me any harder and I’m going to have this kid eight months premature.”

  “All right,” she said, letting me go and taking her seat again. “This is just…the best news ever.”

  Then came the question I didn’t want to hear.

  “And how happy is Bryce about it?” she asked.

  “He doesn’t know,” I said sheepishly.

  “What?” she asked. “You mean you haven’t told him?”

  I shook my head.

  “I just found out this morning. And when I went to tell him, I found out some other news. Some really bad news—his father passed today.”

  “Oh no,” she said. “I’m so sorry to hear that.” Then she scrunched up her face in confusion. “And you’re not with him?” she asked. “Sorry, that sounded rude. But you know what I mean.”

  “I offered. I wanted to be—want to be. But he wanted to be alone, said he was going to head to Washington for the day and get everything sorted out. Told me to stay here, like I’m supposed to pretend that nothing’s going on.” I shook my head in frustration. “It’s like his first reaction is to put up walls. I can’t blame him for it, but I just wish he didn’t feel like he had to be so closed off.”

  “People grieve in their own ways,” said Bess. “I don’t know what the hell I’d do if I lost my dad.”

  “And it was so sudden,” I said. “We were just there for the weekend, and he was so friendly and warm toward me. I mean, he was a charmingly prickly guy, but I could tell he was happy that I was with Bryce. Then, just like that…”

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “But I have to ask—what are you going to do about the baby?”

  “I have no idea,” I said. “I’m still processing it. It hasn’t even had a chance to settle in my head. But I can’t tell him now—he’s got so much to worry about with his dad’s passing.”

  “But you can’t wait too long,” she said. “It’s not like this is something you can keep hidden.”

  “I know, I know,” I said. “God, I’d kill for a glass of wine right now. Anything to take the edge off.”

  Instead, I grabbed my bottle of Perrier and took a long sip, letting myself imagine that the bubbly drink was something with booze in it.

  “And then there’s the other thing,” I said. “The you-know-what thing.”

  “Yeah,” said Bess, her eyes downcast.

  Something was up.

  “Bess,” I said, my tone low and firm. “You haven’t told anyone anything, have you?”

  “No!” she shot out. “No way. But Walsh came into my office the other day and was asking some weird questions.”

  “What do you mean ‘weird?’”

  “Like, he was all smiles and shit—totally unlike him. He started asking me about my personal life, then he awkwardly pivoted to you and Bryce. He started asking about where you both met, how long you’d been dating for—that kind of thing.“

  “And what did you tell him?”

  “I was as vague as I could be, and I think I BS’ed him enough to get him off my back. But I got the distinct impression that he was trying to see if he could find holes in the story, or to see if he could trip me up.”

  “Shit,” I said. “You think he knows?”

  “I think he suspects something,” she said. “And I can’t blame him—your engagement happened so quickly that it was bound to draw attention. Not to mention that those two are definitely a little envious of your new status in the company and how you’ve been able to poach people from their division. They think you started sleeping with the boss just to get back at them. Not surprising they’d try some underhanded shit like this.”

  This was the last thing I needed to worry about. Between the lie and the baby and Steve’s passing, I had more pressure on me than I knew what to do with.

  Bess and I finished up our lunch, though I was feeling so tense I could barely eat. Once back at the Carver building, I was ready to lock myself in my office and get lost in work.

  But as I walked down the hallway to my office, the urge to keep moving came over me—walking always helped me with my nerves.

  I went past my office, past the conference rooms, and down one of the halls where I never usually found myself.

  And as I passed Hunter’s office, I saw something that froze me in my tracks: through the glass front of the office, I spotted Hunter, Walsh, and Becca, the three of them in a close, intense conversation.

  I gasped as soon as I laid eyes on them, darting back away from the glass as fast as I could.

  I didn’t think they saw me. I hope that they didn’t.

  As I hurried back to my office all I could think about was that Bess was right—the three of them were up to something.

  Chapter 36

  Chelsea

  I couldn’t bear to be at the office. Everything that had happened that day had happened there, and the walls felt like they were closing in on me. I let my secretary know I wasn’t feeling well and that I’d be working from home the rest of the day.

  The stress didn’t go away when I was back at the apartment, however. The sight of Walsh, Becca, and Hunter lingered in my mind. The three of them had no reason to be having a meeting—that is, unless they suspected there was something fishy about my and Bryce’s engagement.

  I tried to work but I couldn’t focus. And around four, hours after Bryce had broken the news to me, I got a call from him.

  “Hey,” I said. “How are you?”

  “I’m in White Roads right now,” he said. “With my mother.”

  “Oh god. How is she?”

  “About as well as you could expect,” said Bryce. “But she’s glad that I’m here.”

  “Good,” I said. “I’m glad you were able to get to her so soon.”

  “I wanted to call to let you know about what’s going to happen. My mother and I agreed to move everything along, so the funeral is going to be this Friday. It’s going to be a small affair, and I’d like it if you could come.”

  “Of course, I’m going to come,” I said. “I’m your fiancée. I mean, at least, you know—”

  “I know,” he said.

  Then there was a pause.

  “There’s one more thing,” he said.

  I gulped. I didn’t know if I could take anything else.

  “What is it?”

  “I’ve been meeting with Damien and the other investors, and they’re all ready to move forward. In fact, every last one of them is going to sign. And that means the housing initiative will be entirely funded.”

  “That’s great!” I said, happy for some good news.

  “So, in order to celebrate the affair, Damien is throwing a party this Saturday.”

  “I see. Are you sure you’re going to be in the mood for something like that after the funeral?”

  “I’ll be fine,” he said, not a trace of doubt to his voice. “And if my dad were still around, the last thing he’d want would be for me to waste a second more than necessary being upset over him. He was a tough old guy—you saw that.”

  “I did,” I said. “And sweet, too.”

  Bryce chuckled. It felt so good to hear him laugh.

  “He had a soft side, you’re right about that. But not a chance he’d ever admit it.”


  A beat of silence passed.

  “Anyway, the two of us will be heading to White Roads on Friday for the funeral. Then the party will be on Saturday. Once that’s over, we can take a little bit of a breather before moving on to what’s next.”

  “Sounds great,” I said.

  “Good,” said Bryce. “I’ll be back in tonight.”

  Then more silence.

  “And, Chelsea—thanks. You’ve been more than I could hope for.”

  I was taken aback by how naked and open he seemed.

  “Of course,” I said. “See you soon.”

  I hung up, relief taking hold of me. I was still stressed and upset and hurt by everything going on, but knowing that there was a plan put my mind at ease. It was good timing for everything—we could go to the funeral and then the party and when all that was behind us, I could tell him about the baby.

  I just needed to get through the next week.

  * * *

  The funeral was a small gathering. Aside from family, a dozen or so people from White Roads were there, a somber mood hanging over the affair.

  The White Roads cemetery was situated on a sloping hill not too far from the center of town, with the little hill crest where Steve was to be buried overlooking the sleepy town.

  I was on one side of Bryce and his mother was on the other during the ceremony, Bryce’s arm tight around her as she sobbed into his shoulder.

  Bryce said a few words, speaking of the impact that his father had on his life, how he’d made him the man he was today. After the body was interred, the gathering made its way back to the Carver home, the guests dwindling over the next few hours until it was just me and Bryce and his mother seated around the dining room table, cups of steaming coffee in front of us.

  “Bryce,” said his mother after a time. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”